by Luke Sharpe
I stare at the canvas. It looks like a long white spear hanging down from the roof of a cave.
“A stalactite?” I ask. “We studied those in science class.”
“No, silly. It’s a close-up of one of PHILO’S UPPER TEETH,” Dad says, beaming with pride.
“That was definitely my second guess,” I say, smiling.
Later, at dinner, Dad is in such a good mood that he insists on cooking. Which, well . . . kind of puts us in a bad mood.
“Okeydokey, here we go,” says Dad, gripping a steaming casserole dish. “Tuna Hot Dog Spaghetti supreme! Everyone’s favorite meals, all in one dish!”
“Lovely, dear,” says Mom. Then: “Emily, honey, can you please pass the salt?”
Emily grabs the salt and passes it over. Only Dad doesn’t know it’s actually Gross-to-Good Powder which makes his dishes edible.
After dinner I grab what’s left of my plate of cookies and head to my room. There’s an e-mail waiting from Manny.
Still nothing from Kathy Jenkins. No e-mail, no returned phone calls. Also no closer to figuring out what Definite Devices is. Knocking off for the evening. Sleep well . . . but not too well!!
—M
It’s nice of Manny to wish me luck with my sleep-inventing. I always get a little nervous trying to fall asleep knowing that I need to get up in the middle of the night, sit at my desk, and crank out blueprints that solve the problems. Yet, somehow, it usually works.
Before getting into bed, I go through my usual routine of setting up a blank piece of blueprint paper on my desk and putting my favorite drawing pen under my pillow.
As usual, on a night when I know I have to sleep-invent, I have trouble falling asleep. I toss and turn for a while before dozing off.
Eventually I fall into a restless dream in which all the kids in my school are marching outside the headquarters of Sure Things, Inc. Allison Arnolds is leading them all. There are signs that are all pro-Manny and anti-Billy.
I turn to Manny to make sure that he is still not upset with me, but he has turned into a giant quesadilla with arms, legs, and a huge hot pepper for a head!
Which is when I realize that I must be DREAMING, and the crazy images melt away.
I jump from bed and rush to my desk. Did I do it? Did I sleep-invent?
SUCCESS!!
I sit at my desk and look over the wide sheet of blueprint paper. The first thing I feel is relief, then I feel really, really happy. It’s official. I officially have fully rendered blueprints for the Invisibility Spray!
I look over the plans in detail. Bacon is the main ingredient, I think. Hmm. I would have never thought of that while I was awake. But looking at how it works together with the other ingredients and the spray delivery system on these blueprints, it makes perfect sense.
As I start to roll up the blueprints, I notice something weird—there’s another set of blueprints underneath it! This one is for an ANTI-INVISIBILITY SPRAY. Apparently I had a busy night of sleep-inventing. But, of course, that makes perfect sense. With the two sprays it’s up to you exactly how long you want to remain invisible. You can turn yourself visible again whenever you want!
I bet this could be way useful for Mom on one of her super-secret spy missions!
And speaking of Mom, when I head downstairs for breakfast I see that she has beaten Dad to the stove, meaning that she gets to cook breakfast!
“Whatcha making, Mom?” I ask, settling into my chair in a great mood. I’m thinking my great mood can even rival Ultra Super Nice Emily’s. At least mine is real!
“Well, since your father is in the final stages of getting ready for his art show, I decided to make us breakfast,” Mom says. “It’s just pancakes. PLAIN, OLD, NORMAL, BORING PANCAKES from a mix.”
Mom smiles at me. After years of eating Dad’s breakfasts—like olive-and-gravy omelets, or salmon cereal—plain, old, boring pancakes sound great.
“Perfect,” I say.
Emily sits down next to me. She gives me a weird look. As she snatches a couple of pancakes from the platter, I can see there’s something wrong. This is certainly not “happy to help you” Emily, but somehow I can tell it also isn’t “this is about me, right? Because it’s always all about me” Emily. Something is really troubling her.
“Good morning?” I say, not meaning for it to sound as much like a question as it does. I guess I don’t know how to react to CONCERNED EMILY.
“Take a look at this,” Emily says, pulling out her phone. “I think you need to see it, though you’re not going to like it.”
Oh no. Emily brings up the mobile version of Right Next Door on her phone. She scrolls to today’s classified ad section.
With a mouth stuffed full of Mom’s pancakes, I read:
DEFINITE DEVICES JOB OPENING
Seeking a CFO for a new invention company. Must have prior experience at an invention company. Come work for a NICE boss! ALWAYS gives credit! ALWAYS remembers your name! Will be your FRIEND first, and your BUSINESS PARTNER second! Definite Devices is MORE THAN SURE—we’re DEFINITE! Please contact Nat Definite for all inquiries.
The posting goes on to list Nat Definite’s e-mail address.
“It’s pretty obvious this Nat Definite wants your CFO to apply for this position, Billy,” Emily says very seriously. “The good news is, at least you have a name and an e-mail address for Definite Devices now, right?”
She’s not wrong, but it’s hard for me to picture any bright side to this situation.
Then, making sure that Mom is in earshot, ULTRA SUPER NICE EMILY says, “If you need help finding out who Nat Definite is, let me know! I’m a pretty good sleuth, ya know!” she says.
Whatever is left of my good mood is now completely gone. I’m worried. I can’t lose Manny! Manny is my best friend! Not to mention, there is no Sure Things, Inc. without him . . . and despite what everyone else thinks, no one knows that better than me!
Why is Nat Definite trying to steal my CFO?
Definite Trouble
I GRAB MY phone and shoot off a text to Manny.
Did you see today’s Right Next Door? Check out their classified ads. It looks like Definite Devices is trying to recruit you . . .
Now, I know and trust Manny. There’s just about no one I trust as much. After all, we were best friends long before we became business partners. But this obvious, direct attempt to steal Manny away still has me worried. If Manny really wants to—
Ping!
My phone sounds, letting me know that Manny has instantly replied to my text.
No worries, partner, I do NOT want to move to another company. I do NOT want to work with anyone other than you. This seems fishy. Like it was written just for me. I’m suspicious.
I leave the house and head to school. My mood is picking up a bit. I’ve got the blueprints for the Invisibility and the Anti-Invisibility Sprays rolled up and in my backpack. I now feel confident that no matter what, Manny will ALWAYS be my partner.
And then I arrive at school.
I’m used to no one paying any attention to me as I walk through the halls these days. But something is different today. There are crowds of kids gathered in small circles chatting excitedly.
As I walk past groups of kids, I catch snippets of their conversation.
“No way,” says Allison Arnolds.
“Way,” says Judy Geralds.
“You actually eat the book?”
“Uh-huh, that’s why they call it an EDIBLE BOOK!” shouts another kid.
“Yeah, it’s from Definite Devices. They’re new,” says an eighth grader.
Definite Devices? This last statement stops me in my tracks. Did Definite Devices release its first invention?
I continue down the hall. I see Petula Brown in front of a group of sixth graders who are glued to her every word.
“I know. It’s amazing, isn’t it?” she says. “It’s their first product—the Edible Book. Instead of studying for hours, you simply chew the book, and instantly know every
thing that’s written in there! It’s like the information is magically put right into your brain. Cool, right?”
The sixth graders all nod in agreement. I’m not sure if they really understand what Petula is explaining, or they are just amazed that an older popular girl is interested in talking with them.
Edible Books, huh? That’s actually a pretty good idea. Why didn’t I think of it?
But Petula Brown isn’t done yet.
“I love this invention!” she squeals. “And I bet that Definite Devices is way better —and nicer —than Sure Things, Inc. will ever be!”
Okay, that I did not need to hear.
And that’s when it hits me. Definite Devices is a REAL company. And they are REAL inventors. A nd they have a new, REAL product out that every REAL kid at the very REAL Fillmore Middle School seems to love.
And all of that is a REAL problem if they are trying to steal Manny!
Briiiing! The bell rings and I have no choice but to head to class—history again. Kids arrive and slip into their seats. As I open up my textbook, I see three kids chewing on books from their bags.
Riiip!
They tear pages out of their books.
Crumple, crumple, crumple. . . .
They crumple up the pages into little balls.
Chomp, chomp, smack!
They shove the crumpled pages into their mouths and chew . . . on paper! That is so gross!
Or is it?
“Mine tastes like blueberry pie,” says one girl.
“Mine tastes like a chocolate milkshake,” says a boy sitting next to her.
“Yum. French fries with ketchup,” says another girl as she swallows a page. She pauses for a moment, then turns around to face the rest of the class.
“Did you know that President Thomas Jefferson greeted guests at the White House in his bathrobe and slippers?” says the french fry girl.
“Oh yeah?” says the milkshake boy. “Well, did you know that in New Jersey in 1820, a basket of tomatoes was put on trial for being evil?”
Okay, I didn’t know that.
Blueberry pie girl chimes in next. “Did you know that Cleopatra lived closer in time to the invention of the smartphone than she did to the building of the Great Pyramid?”
Um, I didn’t know that either. Definite Devices may be onto something here. I’m getting VERY NERVOUS about this now. And that’s when Ms. Sullivan walks in.
“Excuse me, Harry,” she says to a boy who has just shoved a crumpled-up page from his Edible Book into his mouth. “Why are you EATING YOUR TEXTBOOK?”
“Rits ra rediba ook,” Harry mumbles.
“Excuse me, Harry, but I can’t understand you with your mouth full of paper,” Ms. Sullivan says.
Harry reaches into his mouth and pulls out a disgusting, drippy, half-chewed wad of paper. “It’s an Edible Book, Ms. Sullivan. I can eat it instead of reading it.”
“Yes, well, that’s very nice, Harry, but in this class we read our books,” Ms. Sullivan says. “You may eat whatever you like at lunchtime.”
Okay, so I can see how Edible Books are going to be way more popular with kids than with teachers.
The kids in history class who have Edible Books quickly slip them into their bags and pull out their regular textbooks.
My next class is science. And again, when I walk into the classroom I see about five kids ripping pages from their books and shoving the paper into their mouths.
I can’t wait for Mr. Palnacchio, my science teacher, to see this. He’s a pretty serious, by-the-book kind of teacher. And by “by-the-book,” I mean the kind of book you have to read.
“Check this out,” says Brian Josephs. “A flea can jump one hundred and thirty times its own height. If a person could do that, he would be able to jump seven hundred and eighty feet into the air.”
“I got one,” says Mary Jane Murphy. “If you farted nonstop for six years, you would create enough energy to destroy a building!”
“Well, you’d certainly empty the building, that’s for sure,” Mike Stevenson adds. He tears out a page and shoves it into his mouth. “But check this out. The tentacles of a giant Arctic jellyfish can grow to one hundred and twenty feet long!”
A girl named Stella goes next. “Cats can make over a hundred different vocal sounds. Dogs can only make about ten. I think my cat Loafer can make about a million.”
Judy Geralds eats a page and then announces, “Did you know that three percent of the ice in the Antarctic is made up of penguin pee?”
“Actually, that’s just a myth, Ms. Geralds,” says Mr. Palnacchio as he steps into the room. “Don’t believe everything you read.”
Or in this case, everything you EAT!
Mr. Palnacchio starts writing today’s lesson on the board. Just before I start to copy it down, I shoot off a quick text to Manny.
Lunch today? It’s important.
Manny and I rarely have lunch together at school. We try hard to hang out with other friends at school since we see each other every day at the Sure Things, Inc. office. But this is different. So much has happened—and so quickly—since I saw Manny at the office yesterday. I really need to catch up with him.
A few seconds later I get a return text.
Sounds good. See you then.
Lunch finally rolls around. As I walk into the cafeteria, I’m happy to see kids eating something other than their books. I spot Manny at a table across the room. Filling up my tray with a burger, a salad, and some kinda scary-looking dish called fruit surprise, (where’s the Gross-to-Good Powder when you need it?) I join him.
“What’s up?” Manny asks as he pokes his fruit surprise with a fork and gives it a skeptical look.
“Well, the good news is I had a great night of sleep-inventing,” I say, figuring it’s always better to start with the good news. “Not only did I work out the kinks for the Invisibility Spray, but as a bonus, I also came up with blueprints for an Anti-Invisibility Spray, too. That way you can turn invisible and turn back any time you want.”
“THAT’S FANTASTIC!” Manny says, deciding to shove aside his fruit surprise in favor of his burger. “But that’s not all we need to talk about.”
“Obviously that job listing is very bad,” I say. “Definite Devices is becoming a real problem. And now they’ve come out with Edible Books. I’m sure you’ve seen them.” Manny nods. “They prove that Definite Devices is a real company and that they can invent a popular product. And they can get it to market very quickly!”
“The Edible Books are a neat idea,” Manny concedes.
“I wish I’d thought of it,” I say.
But Manny shakes his head. “I would have fought you on bringing that one to market, partner,” he says. “It’s one thing to get kids to like an invention, but quite another one to get parents and teachers to buy into it. And I just don’t see teachers going gaga for this. It sounds to me like Definite Devices really does need a good CFO. Long term, I predict a FAILURE in the marketplace.”
Even though I was kinda jealous of the idea at first, based on my teachers’ reactions, I’d have to say that Manny is probably right. Sometimes he’s really good at being the grown-up. Scary good, in fact, for a kid who’s exactly my age.
Reason #998 that I’m super glad Manny is my business partner.
“But what about that job listing?” I ask.
“That was obviously written for me,” says Manny. “It was designed to lure me over to Definite Devices.”
“So what’s next for Operation Sure Fix?” I ask.
“We have to find out who Nat Definite at Definite Devices is,” Manny says. “I think I have a plan that will work.”
I always love it when Manny has a plan. I start to feel encouraged. “What’s the plan?”
“Okay,” Manny says. “Here it is. There’s really no other way.”
Manny looks at me.
“I need to infiltrate Definite Devices,” he continues. “I have to go on the inside, find out who Nat Definite
is, gain Nat’s trust, figure out what’s going on, and learn how to stop him.” Manny pauses. “And for that, I’m going to have to apply for that job.”
Caution—Inventor at Work!
WORST FEAR: CONFIRMED!
I don’t know. I just don’t know. I mean, I know Manny isn’t actually applying for the job. On the one hand, it makes perfect sense. What better way is there to gain inside intel about Definite Devices than by actually having someone on the inside?
But on the other hand, the idea of Manny working for another company . . . even pretending to work for another company . . . that idea is still just TOO WEIRD.
“Billy? You okay?” Manny says after a few seconds. “You look like you left the planet for moment there.”
“What? Oh, sorry, I guess I got lost in my thoughts.” I think for a few more seconds. I know Manny isn’t about to leave Sure Things, Inc. I know this is for us. “Yeah, let’s go for it,” I say, logic winning out over worry. “We’ve got to find out what’s going on, and getting you on the inside of Definite Devices seems like a perfect way.”
Manny nods, then decides to abandon the fruit surprise altogether.
“Just don’t get too comfortable there!” I say.
Manny raises his eyebrows.
“I know . . . I know . . . it’s just a SPY MISSION,” I say. “But really, Manny, you’re my best friend. I’m always happy to have you on my team.”
Manny nods, smiling. “I feel the same way, partner,” he says.
• • •
The rest of the school day is pretty uneventful. In fact, at each class I go to, every kid who eats an Edible Book is told by the teacher to put it away. Manny is right. There’s no way teachers will allow these books to replace the real ones.
PHEW!
That afternoon at the office I get set up to create my Invisibility Spray with the blueprints.
Glancing back over my shoulder I see Manny, fully absorbed in his laptop. I know he’s busy applying for the Definite Devices CFO job. I try not to think about it too much and instead focus on my own task.